


All Better

by thirdfinger



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdfinger/pseuds/thirdfinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar has fulfilled his need for love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Better

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by something [](http://ilikethequiet.livejournal.com/profile)[**ilikethequiet**](http://ilikethequiet.livejournal.com/) said in [this meta round up](http://community.livejournal.com/heroes_meta/36423.html#cutid1). Just quick crack!

"I-I thought you couldn't kill anymore!"

Sylar paused with a finger poised to cut into Peter's skull. "I got better."

"This isn't 'better', Sylar!" Mohinder snapped from where he'd been slammed against a wall and was currently being held in place by telekinesis.

"Claire said you were looking for love," Peter said. His hand was scrabbling desperately for the syringe he'd dropped only moments before. "She said you kissed her and declared your intentions."

"Really?" Mohinder asked. "I guess that's one of my pet theories shot down."

"Very funny, Mohinder," Sylar said in an icy tone of voice. "Claire is yesterday's news. She tried to kill me, again, you know. That's no basis for a loving relationship."

"Um, hello?" Mohinder called from the wall. Sylar ignored him and the hypocrisy of his obsession.

"Anyhow, once I stepped back from my emotions and examined the problem logically it was very easy to come up with a solution."

Peter felt the tips of his fingers brush against something metal. "Oh? Did you hire a prostitute?" He suddenly felt himself pressed hard into the floor. He groaned as the pressure against his broken ribs increased.

"That's disgusting, Peter. I'm not Nathan." Sylar dug around in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wallet. Inside there were no identification or credit cards or money. It was filled with dozens of photos. "This is my new puppy! His name is Noah!" Sylar held a picture first for Mohinder to see then for a stunned Peter to try craning his neck to examine.

"Um, cute?" Peter offered. Sylar seemed to be expecting more so he asked, "What breed is he?"

Happily, Sylar pulled out more pictures to show them. "He's a rescue dog! Nobody wanted him." He glowered at Mohinder then Peter in turn. "He's Irish Wolfhound crossed with Airedale Terrier. I take him for walks every day!"

"Mmm-hmm." Mohinder tried not to flinch when Sylar shoved another picture in his face. "Is that... a scarf around his neck?"

"Isn't it cute? It's a handkerchief, actually. I get them at this little shop down on 34th. He has a little coat for when it gets cold, too!"

"Wow!" Mohinder suddenly seemed very interested in Sylar' s puppy. "Um, what do you feed him? Is he on a special diet?"

Sylar was delighted with the interest. "I make his food. It isn't hard. I usually use brown rice and liver. And he loves the little biscuits I bake for hi-"

Sylar's eyes rolled up in his head and he fell sideways in a graceful heap followed closely by Mohinder, who was now free of his telekinetic bonds.

Peter pulled the syringe out of Sylar's leg and fell back on the floor, breathing heavily. "Can you believe it?"

"Quick, hand me the saw." Mohinder said. "I can get his head off before he wakes up."

"No! We can't do that now!" Peter protested.

"Why not? It's a good plan. I doubt he can heal from decapitation."

Peter picked up one of the fallen photos of Noah and held it up for Mohinder to see, "We can't orphan Noah."

"For the love of... It's a dog. Who cares?"

"I care! I can't bear the thought of this adorable puppy lying in wait for his daddy, slowly starving to death, thinking he's been abandoned." Peter's eyes misted over, "We all have father issues, Mohinder. Let's not give them to a little puppy, too."

For a moment Mohinder seemed torn with indecision. His shoulders slumped. "Fine, we'll let the serial killer go so he can kill again so a little puppy isn't abandoned and left to die."

"Well, when YOU say it..." Peter picked up another photo of Noah. This one featured the puppy wrestling with a stuffed hippo. "Aw! I'm going to take a few of these photos with me."

Mohinder rolled his eyes and slyly pocketed the photo he'd picked up. "So, if we find this dog and you adopt him we can kill Sylar?"

"Yes." Peter agreed.

"Maybe we should call Noah Bennet to help us on this one."

"Ooh, yeah! I'll bet Claire will want a photo, too!" Peter swiped Sylar's wallet and shoved it in his back pocket. "Let's go liberate an adorable puppy!"

"For this I left India."


End file.
